


Luke gets cocky

by greyjoying, Xalts



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Force Sex, M/M, Space jeans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:23:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyjoying/pseuds/greyjoying, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xalts/pseuds/Xalts
Summary: “Like… Let’s say, for intellectual purposes… that you could jerk off with the Force so your hand wouldn’t get tired.”





	Luke gets cocky

“Hey, farm boy.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the nickname, but nevertheless looked up from his position on the floor to meet Han’s gaze as the older man sprawled across Luke’s bunk, flicking carelessly through an outdated magazine advertising the latest proton gigawatts. “How’s your training with the magic stuff coming on?”

“It’s just called the _Force_ , Han,” Luke replied, trying not to sound snippy in his tone. As much as he hated sounding like a know-it-all, he hated Han thinking he sounded like one more. “It’s coming along fine, I think - I still have a lot to practice from what Master Yoda taught me.”

In honesty, Luke knew that his knowledge of the Force was actually pretty sparse, and what Yoda had taught him was still a tangled web of backwards vernacular and vague metaphors. Still, he knew that the energy that connected him to the universe was within him, and he’d been keeping up with the exercises he’d been taught to help improve that connection.

He was knocked off his train of thought by the sensation of someone moving next to him. Han’s shoulder bumped against his own as he slid off the bunk to sit beside Luke. “So you can really do all that stuff - moving things with your mind or whatever?”

Luke nodded and tried to ignore how his throat tightened when he realised how warm Han’s arm was against his own. “I can move small stuff pretty easily, but bigger stuff takes a lot of focus.”

Han clicked his tongue. “You wanna practice?”

Luke blinked. “What, right now?”

“I’m curious,” Han admitted with a shrug. He reached behind him and grabbed the magazine he’d been reading, flipping it shut and then tossing it on the ground in front of them. “Go on, make it float.”

Luke made no move, too suspicious to trust Han with even this simple request. Han huffed. “Come on, kid. You’ve spent almost the entire day staring into space and muttering stuff about Vader. It’s getting boring watching you mope. So, loosen up a little, relax, and show me your bullshit space magic.”

Luke chuckled at that and sat up a little straighter. “Fine, fine. But keep quiet so I can concentrate.”

Han mimed zipping his lips and winked.

Feeling an unexplained rush of blood to his cheeks, Luke turned away from Han, took a deep breath and focused all his energy on the magazine in front of them. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he could see the silvery thread of the force connecting him to it, and he channeled his being into that thread, strengthening the connection incrementally until enough of him was within the magazine that he thought he could make it work. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised one hand, and with it raised the magazine. He lifted it about a foot off the ground, flipped through the pages one by one and then closed it and let it drop to the carpeted floor with a soft thump.

Han whistled, impressed. “Pretty good, kid,” he said, “But you need to have your tongue stuck out the whole time?”

Luke pulled his tongue back into his mouth quickly, the back of his neck warming with embarrassment. “I was concentrating,” he said weakly in defence. Han grinned.

“Don’t worry about it.” He slid down to prop himself upright with just one elbow against the floor. “It’s kinda cute.”

Luke nodded in response, and then a second later his brain caught up with what Han had just said and he spun his head around to look at him so quickly that his neck twinged with pain.

“Wh-- Cute?!”

Han shrugged, unphased. “You heard me.”

Certain that he was now completely red, Luke felt his eyes dart around as he desperately tried to work out where to look as Han ran his gaze up and down appraisingly.

“Look, all I’m saying, kid,” Han continued, leaning further on his elbow in a charade of casualness, “is you’re not the worst farmer I’ve had the bad luck to run into.”

Luke cleared his throat rapidly and tried not to stutter, hardly believing what he was about to say. “Well, you’re not the worst smuggler I’ve ever seen-- I mean, not like I’ve met a lot but, y’know, I… um…”

Han smirked. “Yeah. I know.” There followed a terse silence as Luke struggled to come up with a response to that, but Han saved him from the trouble by leaning across with one hand and carefully tracing slow circles across the top of his thigh.

“Y’know,” Han began in a careful tone, as if testing the waters. “I reckon this Force thing could be useful for… other stuff. It could be pretty helpful.”

Luke narrowed his eyes a little. “Other stuff?” he asked, and tried not to think about how Han was so close to him now that his hair was tickling Luke’s forehead, or that the slow circles on his thigh was rapidly turning into a firm, steady grip - not that Luke was pulling away, or protesting in any way, really.

“Like… Let’s say, for intellectual purposes… that you could jerk off with the Force so your hand wouldn’t get tired.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Luke had been expecting. “Intellectual purposes,” he repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” Han agreed, his eyes flashing with something bright and dangerous. Luke felt his breath, warm, against his face. “You can even practice on me if that’d be easier. I’m selfless like that, you know.”

“Selfless,” Luke repeated in the same flat tone, but couldn’t help the bubble of nervous laughter that joined in at the end, and Han grinned again.

“I can be pretty selfless when I feel like it, kid. Like now, for example,” Han said, smiling, and then the hand that had been working its way up Luke’s thigh was on his chest, bunching up his shirt. Luke felt himself being pushed backwards, his back knocking against the side of the bed as Han advanced, and then, with no time to react, Han’s mouth was pressing against his own. With a tiny breathy moan, Luke pushed into the kiss, wrapping one hand around the back of Han’s neck to pull him in closer, and Han made a noise of derision, sliding up against Luke’s body so that he could straddle the younger man’s lap.

They were horizontal now, though Luke wasn’t quite sure when that had happened. He ran his tongue across Han’s bottom lip, who opened his mouth wider in response, and Han’s hands found their way underneath Luke, sliding up his spine under his shirt as Han pressed deeper into the kiss with an almost intense desperation that Luke was sure would leave a mark.

And then Luke was startlingly aware of Han’s erection pressing against his abdomen. He pulled back from the kiss a little in shock, and Han frowned slightly. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said, cursing the way his voice cracked as he said that. He was struggling to fight off the urge to lick his lips, as if he would be able to taste Han on them. “It’s just, uh, t-the Force thing, right?” He used Han’s shoulders as handholds to pull himself back upright and hoped the pounding of blood in his ears wasn’t loud enough for Han to hear. “If you’re still up for it, I mean.”

“I’m up for it,” Han said a little too quickly and without a hint of shame. Luke swallowed. This was really happening. His eyes darted down to Han’s crotch, and he tried to still his shaking hands as he reached for the zipper. It didn’t help that Han was watching him with a shit-eating grin, as if daring him to keep going. Once the zip was down and Luke had snatched his hand back as if the metal was red hot, Han shimmied his space jeans down, giving Luke a clear view of his already-hard cock straining against his boxers.

Luke swallowed again, his throat excessively tight. The room felt very hot all of a sudden, and his face and ears seemed to be rushing to meet the rising temperature. “I’m just… focusing,” he said, hoping it would buy him the time to calm down and grasp the courage to keep going.

“Take your time,” Han said amiably, as if he wasn’t sat with his dick almost out. “As long as you need.”

“Shut up.” Luke sighed, and then tried to get into the meditative state he found easiest to use the Force in. In his mind, he tried to see the shape of the boxers, the feel of the fabric and the weave of every individual thread, and connect them all to himself - though the outline of Little Han in the middle of it all was doing its best to distract him. Slowly, slowly, he strengthened the link until he could almost feel the material against his hands, despite the distance, and then, carefully, he moved it.

He heard Han’s breath catch in his throat as the boxers subtly tightened around his pelvis, deepening the outline of his cock and teasing over the sensitive head of his erection. Slowly, Luke focused on the individual threads, tugging them across Han’s skin in a way that must have been effective, because Han moaned, low and slow, and rolled his hips into the movement, trying to get more friction.

The combination of the noise and the image of Han’s hips moving that way almost broke Luke’s concentration, and he quickly regathered himself enough to move the fabric again, rubbing it up and down the length of Han’s dick. Han threw his head back, a low whine dragging its way out of his throat as his hips jerked with every tug. Luke bit his lip, watching the front of the boxers grow damp with precum, and then dragged them down in one swift motion, exposing Han to the open. The smuggler gasped as cold air hit his erection, and Luke was grateful he had both hands free as the intense surging between his own legs called for one hand to go to its attention.

“You’re sticking your tongue out again,” Han said softly, his breath coming in gasps.

“You-- You look good,” Luke blurted suddenly, unable to form any other coherent thought.

Han smirked, said “Don’t worry, I know it,” and Luke got the urge to wipe that smug grin off his face.

With the hand not otherwise occupied, Luke formed a loose fist, about the right size to fit around Han’s cock. He linked that shape with the feeling of the Force and projected it around the meatstick, pressing hard in a way that made Han splutter in surprise and jerk forwards violently.

Luke pulled his hand away. “Sorry, should I-?”

“No,” Han said quickly, and then “No,” softer this time. He was breathing heavily, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “Just wasn’t expecting it to feel so… life like. You can keep going.”

Luke nodded, and quickly picked up the Force connection he had dropped in his shock. He pictured his thumb rubbing against the base of Han’s cock, and was rewarded with a shudder running through Han’s entire body. Harder, he thought, and Han moaned in pleasure. “You should put your hands behind your back,” he said suddenly. “So you don’t touch yourself.”

Han wrinkled his nose. “What do you think you are, a fucking general or something?” he muttered, but still, he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned backwards against the side of Luke’s bunk, spreading his legs further. He caught Luke’s eye with a half-wink. “Like what you see?”

“Stop talking, it’s distracting,” Luke replied, dragging his gaze back to the job at hand - literally. He flicked his wrist, making small jerking motions, which sent Han squirming and writhing against the floor. 

“Fuuuck, that’s good,” he heard Han slur, and smiled. _I wonder how closely we’re linked now…,_ he thought. Luke imagined brushing each fingertip individually against Han’s length, one at a time, and watched Han shudder in perfect time with the imagined motions.

“You can feel that? My fingers?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Han said, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Come on, kid,” he gasped, making rhythmic jerking motions against the empty air in front of him, the blush on his face spreading down his neck onto his chest. Luke moved his thumb again, this time as if to circle the head of Han’s cock, and for a second he thought he felt something warm and wet against his skin, as if he’d transcended physical distance. At the same time, he used the rest of his hand to keep up the jerking motion he’d built up, increasing the pressure little by little against Han’s dick as he did.

“Fuck,” Han moaned again, his back arching as his thighs jerked involuntarily from the stimulation. “Luke, fuck, that’s so good. You’re so fucking good, farm boy.”

Luke couldn’t help it anymore. He knew that doing it with the Force would be beyond his concentration at this point, so he used his unoccupied hand to burrow into his own space jeans, working his own stiff cock, and then, carefully, lowered the hand he’d been using to focus the Force onto Han, suddenly confident that he could do it with his mind alone. He used his now-free hand to brace against the ground as he redoubled his concentration on Han.

His focus was so intense that his vision blurred. All he knew was Han’s moans, the focus on _push_ and _pull_ all-encompassing, the non-existent friction harder and tighter against Han’s cock as his mind fell into unsteady time with his hand on his own dick, moving asynchronously across the two. At the last possible moment, when Han looked completely wrecked, Luke opened his mouth and flicked his tongue, feeling the phantom of Han’s tip ghost across the space between them. Han threw his head back so forcefully that he nearly knocked himself out on the side of the bunk, and came noisily, tendrils of cum splashing across the floor between them.

Luke released his focus on Han and was immediately hit with the sensations from his own physical hand with such might that it took mere seconds of jerking to cum himself. His body spent of energy, he let himself drink in the sight before him, admiring how Han looked completely undone - dishevelled and bedraggled, sweat beading on his beet-red face as he gasped for breath, his dick softening against his thigh - how it had been Luke who made him look like that. He blinked, stars dancing across the darkness of his eyelids from exhaustion, and let his hands get out all the shaking he’d been suppressing. His whole body felt warm. And a little gross; he glanced down and saw the mess he’d made of the front of his space jeans, and of Han’s, and of the floor of his room.

“Well,” Han said breathlessly, distracting Luke from thoughts of cleaning up, “I was right.”

“What?”

“Your arm isn’t tired from jerking, is it?” Han clarified, and then grinned as Luke began to laugh, remembering the conversation that had led to this whole thing.

“Yeah, it’s not,” Luke agreed, and leaned in to capture Han’s mouth in another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Every synonym for a dick in this was provided by Zero Xalts. Space Jeans was me though.


End file.
